


A good kid

by Sara_Nublas



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Challenge Response
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-22
Updated: 2011-07-22
Packaged: 2017-10-21 15:59:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/226980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sara_Nublas/pseuds/Sara_Nublas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: The BAU is called for a case in Wisconsin, soon it turns out to be a much more gruesome case they initially expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A good kid

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This story was written for the ‘Writers of the Silver Screen Challenge’; my assignment combines pairing Prentiss-Gideon and the movie: Psycho. While I have followed the movie very loosely, I read a lot about the real killers the movie was based on.  
> Important: Since Gideon’s presence in the team is still assumed, the events take place during the year 2007.

1\. Beyond the tangible clues

The room is filled with the smell of disinfectant and it’s slightly cold, even though Emily doubts the temperature caused the shiver that just crept through her body.  
When the ME finally enters the room, the profiler’s attention is veered from her eerie thoughts.  
“Sorry for keeping you waiting agent,” she apologizes and greets Prentiss with an energetic handshake.  
“No problem.” Emily reassures before cutting to the chase “What can you tell me?”  
“The victim, Janet Crane, is a female, brunette, 25-26 years old,” the doctor lifts the sheet, uncovering the body, “She was hit in the back of her head with a blunt object, but this was not the cause of death; after being subdued, she was raped and then suffocated. My guess is that the killer tried to dissolve the body in some kind of acid compound, but didn’t finish the job.”  
Prentiss registers every bit of information, while staring at the horribly mutilated body; she can’t help wondering how such a young, beautiful woman, ended up in this ugly hole to be brutally violated and killed.  
“What about these bruises and scratches on her arms?” she inquires  
“It seems she put up quite a fight at some point” the ME explains.  
“Any chance to get some DNA?” she asks.  
“We’ve got tissue samples from under her nails and sent them to the lab; but frankly with all that acid around I wouldn’t keep my hopes high.”  
Prentiss nods and heads back to the police station, where the rest of the team is going through the detail of the case.  
They’ve just arrived in Winsconsin, in a little town of 15000 inhabitants where two days ago a woman has been found dead. The sheriff, who’s been around long enough to recognize troubles coming, recognized the similarity between the present victim and a series of unsolved murders occurred four years ago in 2003, so he immediately contacted the BAU.

“Prentiss, news?” a very impatient Gideon welcomes her with a scowling look as soon as she’s back at the police station.  
She’s been working with him for almost two years now, yet he still manages to make her ill at ease when he’s so intense, “Same MO of the previous victims. The body was extensively mutilated by chemical burns, probably acid” she quickly regains her composure.  
“Dissolving bodies in the acid is a typical method employed by the killers of the mob, to delete proofs” Reid joins them.  
“I don’t see how the mob might want to target a small rural town in Wisconsin, though.” Prentiss objects and Reid nods in agreement.  
They all walk into a little room the local PD provided them at the station, “Maybe it’s just a way for the unsub to dispose of the body” Reid tries another angle.  
“Then why didn’t he go through with it?” Prentiss objects.  
“Someone interrupted him?” JJ offers.  
“Well, then we might have an even bigger problem” Prentiss comments bluntly.  
“What do you mean?” Morgan enters the room with a steaming mug of coffee.  
“If you want to get rid of a body there are thousands more effective and easier ways to do that” she explains.  
“Acid is easy and effective…” Reid clarifies, ready to start with a lecture in chemistry, but he gets cut off.  
“Effective, but not at hand,” Emily registers the frowns from her colleagues so she carries on, “Okay. I’m the unsub. I have just killed Janet Crane, but something doesn’t go as planned and I need to get rid of the body immediately. I can bury it, burn it, cut it into pieces… but what is the chance that I have a barrel of acid with me, unless I’ve planned ahead in using it?”  
“This means we are dealing with an organized killer, who’s been doing this for a while,” Gideon follows her line of thought, despite the unconvinced glares the rest of the team is giving them, “If you’re right, then dissolving the bodies of his victims in acid is part of his MO.”  
“Guys,” Morgan doesn’t try to hide his skepticism, “this homicide is definitely creepy and there might be a link with the cases of four years ago, but it seems to me we are making assumptions with no actual evidence,” he objects.  
“Morgan is right, we don’t have any proof,” Hotch admits “except the hypothesis of a zealous sheriff who was definitely upset by the brutality of those murders”.  
“Well, we don’t have proofs because if this hypothesis is right, the unsub dissolved them all!” Prentiss argues, slightly irritated by how Hotch is always more prone to back up Morgan’s skepticism than her takes.  
“Prentiss, even if this guy erased the proofs, how could several disappearances go undetected for all this time?” Morgan returns.  
“Look at the victimology,” she doesn’t give up “young women, with no family, running away from something, passing by. Nobody even knew they were here…”  
Morgan lays down his cup and fumbles through the files of the victims. He has to agree with Prentiss on this; Janet Crane, the last victim, was running away after stealing 40000 dollars to her step-father in New York, and wasn’t it for a PI he sent after her, nobody would have been minding about her whereabouts. Similarly, one of the previous victims four years ago was running away from a violent husband and another one, the first, was a former prostitute.  
He sighs, slightly contracting his jaw and not fully convinced yet, “Okay then. How does he pick them?”  
“He probably has a job that allows him to meet those girls and to talk to them,” Gideon suggests.  
“Fuel stations, bars, restaurants, motels…” Reid lists the options.  
“He needs to spend time with them, to choose who’s worthy of his attention,” Gideon carries on, “Let’s ask Garcia to check motels and bars in a 20 miles radius.”  
“Anything to narrow down the search, sir?” the voice of the tech analyst greets them from the speaker.  
“Focus on men between 25 and 30, single,” Hotch starts, “See if any of the employees has a criminal record, especially for harassment, aggression and cruelty on animals.”  
“Cruelty on animals?” Garcia echoes horrified.  
“You don’t reach this level of rage overnight,” Gideon explains, “you have to experiment and exercise your grudge and usually, as a teenager, when these impulses start surging, animals are the easiest target.”  
“Why do I even bother asking if I always regret the answer?” Garcia complains while moving her hands frantically on the keyboard, “Bingo!” she chirps seconds after, “…and the winner is: Theodore Camden, 30 years old, single, he runs a motel just out of town. He was accused of stalking some students at university and expelled for inappropriate behavior. You wanna more? When he was in high school he was sentenced to social service for cruelty against animals..”  
“Which kind of cruelty?” Reid inquires.  
“I knew you would have asked. You never miss the creepy stuff young boy, uh?” she teases back reluctantly skimming through the file on her screen, while Reid displays an abashed look in response. “Hew! He picked dead animals, cats, dogs, birds and then dissolved them in acid. I’m sending you the file right now and unless you need me again I’ll go to rinse my brain out!” she cries back.  
A silence falls in the room; it’s Morgan the first to break it, “Well Prentiss, I’m in. We just got ourselves a very organized and nasty unsub”  
‘Guys, this way he could have killed dozen of women virtually undetected” Reid clarifies the obvious.  
Hotch quickly organizes the team, “Gideon, Morgan and Prentiss, you three go to the motel and search for Camden and for clues of his involvement. He’s for sure a creepy guy, but as far as we know he’s just a suspect. JJ and Reid try to find the other potential victims among the women went missing since 2003. I’ll go and explain this mess to the sheriff” he resolves unenthusiastically.

 

2\. Hidden horror  
The motel where Theodore Camden works, is on the interstate road, in the middle of nowhere. There’s an old, two-storey, wooden house behind the building that, according to the information Garcia gave them, belongs to Babette Camden, Theodore’s mother.  
The reception is deserted and creepy. Emily calls for someone for the third time, but to no avail. Eventually she leans over the reception desk and looks at the open register, “Sir,” she calls Gideon, “Janet Crane, the last victim checked in five days ago, but she left the day before yesterday. Which puts her out of this motel at the time of death…” by her tone she sounds unconvinced.  
“So what’s wrong?” Gideon looks at her intently, yet patiently.  
“She checked out but the keys of her room are not on the panel…”  
Gideon nods and heads out toward the victim’s room, hiding a little smile. She’s good, he mentally says to himself.

Janet Crane’s room is untouched. The bed is made, the closet empty, a coat is hanging behind the door and a few parking tickets are sitting on the bedside table.  
“These are parking tickets from four days ago,” Gideon comments reading the faded piece of paper, “…but there’s no car outside.”  
“She might have left the tickets here,” Emily offers back.  
“She forgot also her coat…” Gideon carries on.  
“This window faces Theodore Camden’s house,” she continues, moving a blind and pointing the old building “he could have spied on her from his room, and she could have seen him…” then she freezes spotting an unmistakable movement behind a curtain at the first floor of the house; it’s just a second, but she’s sure someone’s in that house.  
The three of them rush toward the building; once inside Prentiss can’t help noticing the creepy atmosphere. The house, dark and dusty, smells like if nobody has let any fresh air in for a long time. There are no pictures on the walls, neither personal items around; just an eerie stillness permeating through every corner. This house looks like a mausoleum.  
Morgan takes the ground floor, Prentiss and Gideon head upstairs.  
They search the entire house and once they’ve cleared all the rooms, Emily internally curses her faulty perception. Only then a creak stops their steps toward the stairs.  
Prentiss and Gideon silently look at each other and draw their guns, slowly approaching the master bedroom from which the noise came.  
It’s there, crouched in a corner of the wardrobe, that they find an old woman, Babette Camden. She’s terrified and so thin that a gust of wind could probably dissolve her into ashes. She’s muttering to herself nonsensical words and looking around, disoriented.  
When Gideon approaches her, she startles scared, and looks at him with desperate eyes full of tears; but when Prentiss gets closer to help her out of the corner, a metamorphosis occurs in her demeanor. Her gaze becomes nasty and an uncanny strength gets into her, she starts cursing against the woman, calling her a harlot, a dirty whore, it’s because of her that her Theodore disappeared, she’s the seed of Satan. Eventually Gideon manages to take a raving Babette out of the room and gestures Emily to stay back.  
A couple of minutes and the storm is over, the old lady is meekly complying with Gideon’s directions and getting into the car.  
“I’m taking her to the station to question her. You two stay here and search the house,” Gideon orders to Morgan and Prentiss, who nods mortified and still abashed.

“What the hell just happened?” Morgan asks once they’re alone.  
“I don’t know. One moment she was this lost, dovelike, little lady and then, when she saw me, she turned into a fury” she admits clueless.  
He chuckles lightly and is about to produce a joke, but sobers up, “Are you okay?” he inquires, not used to see her shaken.  
“I’m fine.” she hastily responds, “let’s get back to work.”  
Morgan stares at her unconvinced for a few seconds, then heads to search the ground floor and leaves her silently thanking the solitude of Theodore’s bedroom, where nobody can discern the shock on her face. That look of pure hatred in Babette’s eyes was specifically directed to her; whether this is the consequence of a merciless aging or a trademark of her personality Emily doesn’t know, but it’s easy to imagine how the latter might have affected Theodore’s mind.  
It’s with this gruesome considerations floating around her mind, that she opens a wooden box and make an even more gruesome discovery.  
When Morgan hears her voice calling him from the bedroom, he immediately senses something’s off and reaches her in no time. He finds her standing in front of a box, her expression tense and aggravated and her voice dry while she asks on the phone for a CSU and a forensic anthropologist. Only then he spots the content of the case, approximately ten human skulls accurately stored.

Emily Prentiss cannot remember what she was thinking this morning when she woke up; surely she didn’t expect to hunt down a psychopath who might turn out to be one of the most prolific killers of the decade. One thing she knows though, she would like to rewind time and not get out of bed at all. She nods at the CSU team, done with bagging all the material found in Theodore’s room, and ready to leave the scene, when a truck veers violently from the main road and skids in the parking lot, stopping few meters away from her.  
A man visibly agitated jumps out of the truck and heads toward Prentiss “Sir, this is a potential crime scene. You’re not allowed in here” she halts him.  
He doesn’t seem fazed by the warning while he walks up to her with an expression of sheer determination on his face, “I’m Josh Camden, my mother owns this place, my brother Theodore lives here with her. I need to know what’s happening!” he urges upset.  
Emily gapes at a frowning Morgan, then again at the man resolutely standing in front of her with his hands planted on his sides. The moment she offers to stay there with him and to ask him some questions, she knows already it’s not a good idea and she can read it in Morgan’s berating look, but at this point it’s not a matter of what is more sensible or not; it’s a priority to find out as much as possible about Theodore Camden.  
Morgan knows that as well, nonetheless he doesn’t feel better at the idea of leaving Prentiss alone, questioning a man who doesn’t convince him in the least, at a crime scene, with a lunatic serial killer on the loose. She’s a trained agent, and she seems to have it all under control, but this doesn’t make him feel better while he heads to the morgue to gather information on the skulls. He looks in the rear mirror to check she’s fine one last time and resolves to be back as soon as he can.

 

3.“I think we are all in our private traps and no one can get out”  
“I just got off the phone with Morgan,” JJ updates the team, “judging by the micro abrasions on the surface of the skulls, the ME concluded they have been treated with some kind of acid to dissolve the soft tissues, and then bleached.”  
“Is Prentiss talking to the brother?” Gideon asks, after processing the information.  
“Yes, and Morgan wasn’t really comfortable at the idea of leaving her alone with him,” JJ points out.  
Gideon carries on his own line of thought, ignoring completely JJ’s concern, “Good. Tell her to update us as soon as she has some new information,” he states bluntly, “at least now we know that Prentiss was right, he wasn’t trying to get rid of Janet Crane.”  
“This means he’s organized, experienced, and has access to specific materials and a secluded place,” Hotch carries on.  
“According to the size of the skulls, the palate tending to a parabola and the mastoid process, the ME is sure the skulls belonged to women. Teeth and ectocranial suture suggest an age between 25 and 30 years old.” Reid fumbles through the report the ME just faxed.  
“How long ago were they killed?” Gideon asks.  
“October 2003, January2004, October 2004, March 2005, November 2005,” Reid responds quickly, gaining a skeptical look from JJ.  
“The dates were written on the inside of the skulls,” Reid explains, rising his head from the report.  
Gideon frowns, a thought crossing his mind, he looks almost impatient while he poses the last question, “Did they have any mark?”  
“All showed a depression in the occipital area, compatible with a forceful head trauma ante mortem. If that was the cause of death or not, it’s not possible to say without further body parts.”  
“The MO partly coincides with the last victim,” JJ translates in words Gideon’s thought.  
“Ok,” the older profiler resolves, “I’m going to talk to the mother” he hurries out of the room.  
He has the urge of getting to the unsub as soon as he can, he needs to know why and he needs to stop him. On his way to the room where Babette Camden has been taken, he hesitates with his fingers clutched on the door handle, wondering how many other young women will have to suffer such a horrible death before they stop him. How many of them have already died, in silence, forgotten?

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later, thanks.” Emily hangs up the phone after being briefed by Morgan on the skulls. The plus is that she was right about the whole thing. The minus is that god knows how many other women died horribly.  
She bits her lip and goes back to Josh Camden, who’s sitting in his mother’s living room staring at a cup of by now cold coffee.  
“News?” he begs Emily with hopeless eyes.  
“Not about your brother..” she dodges the direct answer.  
“I don’t understand” he objects impatiently, “When I arrived you were taking away a box of material from his room, you’ve just been on the phone with your colleague for five minutes and now you tell me you don’t have any news on Theodore?”  
“Mr Camden..”  
“Josh” he corrects in a more amenable tone.  
“Josh…” for some reasons she cannot identify, she doesn’t feel comfortable in addressing him by name, “We believe that at the moment your brother might be a danger for himself and possibly for other people,” she starts in the most careful way “If you want to help him, the best you can do is to answer my questions.”  
He seems convinced, and nods in authorization.  
“When’s the last time you saw Theodore?” she starts.  
“It’s been years… I travel a lot and it’s not like we get along so well” he snorts.  
“Has it always been like this? You two not getting along?” she inquires softly.  
“I don’t know… I’m seven years older than him, we’ve never been buddies, you know? When he was ten our father left; at that time I was busy chasing girls and sneaking out at night, so I didn’t see it”  
“You didn’t see what?”  
“How they changed. He and mom” he takes a sip of his coffee, staring at his hands, “she started saying that women were the bad seed, temptations from Satan, that we could only trust her..”  
Prentiss nods silently, remembering the expression she saw in Babette’s eyes; that hatred cannot be the result of the haze of dementia, but the legacy of a life of grudge and regret. Now Theodore’s profile becomes clearer and clearer.  
“What about your brother?” she invites him to continue  
“What about him?” he suddenly turns defensive.  
“How did he change?” she keeps calm.

“My Theodore is a good boy” Babette vehemently defends, when Gideon asks her about his whereabouts.  
“I know… We know,” he gestures the two of them, searching her eyes with an understanding smile, “but there are other people who don’t see it like that, and if they find Theodore before I do, he will be in serious troubles.”  
She looks at him, uncertain and confused. Then her gaze hardens again, like back at the house when she saw Prentiss, “by other people you mean that bitch who was with you in my house?”  
Gideon arches his brows, “Why do you think she’s a bad person, Babette?” he asks without moving his gaze from her.  
“All women are. Aren’t they? They destroy families. They took away Theodore’s father years ago, and now they’re trying to do the same with my child” she defenses eagerly.  
“It’s okay, it’s okay” he soothes her, “I understand, you are a mother. You did what you had to do to protect your son.”  
“He’s not like the others. Theodore is special! People never understood; they said he was weird and dangerous. But they didn’t know a thing” she carries on.  
“Why did they say he was dangerous?” he inquires almost in a whisper, “because of what he did to those animals?”  
“They were already dead!” she belittles with a wave of her hand, “he was just curious. He was doing no harm.”

“There was this terrible smell coming out of the cellar. Theodore was always there after dad was gone” Josh remembers with a horrified grin on his face “when we entered we saw all those dead animals; some were turned into a disgusting slime, some other had still some flesh on. In some other cases he managed to melt the flesh and preserve perfectly the bone.”  
Prentiss is silently gathering his recount, trying to relate to the pain of discovering that your brother is a monster and that deep down you’ve always known it, but never did a thing to stop him.  
“I mean… It’s kind of weird, but we thought he was just playing around. Those animals were already dead. What harm could he do?” he searches for validation.  
Emily pauses a moment before replying, and then her words come out drier than she wanted “I guess none… until you move up to human beings.”  
He offers her a hopeless look and murmurs, “I think we’re all in our private traps and no one can get out.”

Gideon doesn’t move his stare from her.  
“Oh come on!” Babette reacts almost annoyed, “it’s not as if he were a maniac… he just goes a little mad sometimes. But he wouldn’t harm a fly.”  
“What happens when he goes mad?” he questions her in a soft tone; there’s no judgment in his eyes.  
“I told you, he was no freak,” she explains with a crack in her voice “He was just a kid, who felt abandoned after his father left us and felt the responsibility of being the man of the house.”  
Gideon searches her gaze for a moment, then he exhales while reclining himself on the back of the chair and studying her. The terrified old lady affected by dementia, that he rescued few hours ago is not an innocent creature. She’s malicious, perverted, vicious. She used the abandonment and the frustration she suffered after he husband left her to anchor her sons to her and to make them hate any other woman. As a result one started abusing animals until he moved to the real target of his rage, probably with her well aware of his actions all along, whereas the other…  
“Mrs Camden, you’re right. Your son wasn’t different from the other kids” he observes the smile of approval appearing on her face “he was trying to get love and attention from his mother. A mother who was so full of rage and frustration to turn him into a psychopath, a serial killer.”  
Babette startles at Gideon’s words. Her eyes become hard and full of resent all of a sudden, “Do you think I’m responsible for what he did?” she asks irately.  
“And what he did, Babette? What do you know exactly? And how long have you known it?” he urges blunt, no understanding in his eyes anymore.  
“I told you. He was just playing with dead animals!” she looks at him stubborn.  
“No, Babette. You know more than that” he insists, more intense, without rising his voice or loosing composure, but enough for Babette to widen her eyes and stiffen on her chair, “you knew he was struggling. Despite your brainwashing he maybe started having interest for some women..”  
“Whores, they were all whores!” she hisses out.  
“But you couldn’t allow them to take him away from you, could you?”  
“I was just taking care of my son. It’s what a good mother is supposed to do,” she defends adamantly.  
“So you pushed him, and pushed him. Until he was so torn between love and repulsion, that the only way to cope with it, was to remove the source of his troubling,” he carries on, not bothering about her uneasiness.  
“They would have made him suffer! I knew better. I can only make him happy!” she cries out vehemently.  
“So you prodded him, and you watched him while he was becoming a killer. Just because you didn’t want to be alone” he now softens his tone, exhausted and drained as he always is when he sees how torn and distorted a human mind can become.  
“They would have left him.” she argues, with firm, stubborn voice.  
“No, Babette. Just because you were unhappy, it doesn’t mean he would have been as well.”  
He, They…

The door of the interrogation room opens and Hotch recalls Gideon’s attention. The senior profiler leaves his chair and follows out without a word of explanation to the sobbing woman sitting in front of him.  
“What we’ve got?” he demands as soon is out with the rest of the team.  
Hotch he’s seer, “We’re not progressing here. We’ve got a killer on the loose. We know how his mother played a role in the formation of his psychosis and we know that he’s extremely unstable at the moment. But we don’t have any viable information on his whereabouts.”  
“The press will turn this into a mess and it’s not gonna be long before people from the community start going around harmed, to hunt Camden down” JJ comments.  
“What about special places where he can hide or he likes to go?” Reid suggests.  
“It doesn’t seem his life goes beyond taking care of his mother and finding new preys, which happens at the motel” Morgan, who rejoined them, suggests.  
“True.” Gideon sustains, “Do we have someone at the motel in case Theodore comes back?”  
“Prentiss is still talking to Josh Camden, trying to get more information on Theodore” Hotch explains, then he notices the frown on Gideon’s face “What is that?”  
Gideon glances through the window at the old woman still visibly shaken, “why does she never speak about Josh?”  
“What do you mean?” JJ asks confused.  
“After his husband left, she conveyed all her attention on her sons; but then something happened and all of a sudden it’s only Theodore at the centre of the attention.”  
“I’ll ask Garcia to dig out as much as she can on Josh Camden” Hotch resolves, “Gideon, you go on talking to the mother. Morgan go back to the hotel, if Theodore comes back I don’t want Prentiss being there on her own. JJ, release a statement to keep the press quiet. Reid, let’s go over this all again. I’ve got the feeling we’re missing something.”  
The team spread, everyone silently growing the feeling that this case is not going to end well.

Gideon sits in front of Babette, handing her a glass of water; no other courtesy transpires from his demeanor. “Tell me about Josh.”  
“What?” she asks with surprise, in a raucous voice.  
“You have two sons, Theodore and Josh. But you never talk about Josh. I wanna know about him,” Gideon repeats quietly but firmly.  
“Josh was a sweet kid. Very serious, very studious,” she starts with an expression of pain in her eyes, “he had his very own way to look at life. He wanted to do things his own way..”  
Gideon registers her tone and the fact that she speaks about her older son just in the past.  
“When’s the last time you had contact with him?” he carries on.  
Babette responds with an angry look, her eyes filling with tears “Four years ago, obviously.”  
“What happened four years ago?”  
Babette incredulously looks at him, “Don’t you have a bit of compassion? Why do you want me to remember that day? Don’t you think I’ve lost enough already?” she screams at him, bracing herself.

Emily stares at Josh after his last statement, ”And what is your private trap, Josh?” She’s starting to suspect they’ve been looking at this case in the wrong way, all along.  
He looks at her questioningly.  
“You just said the we’re all in our private traps and we can’t get out. Theodore’s trap is this motel, but what’s yours?”  
“This isn’t a trap!” he defends vehemently. Then he notices her body stiffening and composes himself, “the job is not bad and living with our mother is not a burden.”  
“But you left…”  
He looks at her, a mixture of hurt, rage and frustration whirling in his gaze. Then he gets up nervously, running a hand through his hair. It’s just then, when he’s pacing back and forth through the room, that Emily notices the scratches on his neck.  
She mentally goes over the ME’s report; the last victim fought her aggressor. By that time the DNA results should be ready…  
“Josh, tell me about the last time you talked to your brother?” she asks, keeping calm.  
He stops pacing and stares at her intently, like a wild animal, who just set his eyes on a prey.

“It was a rainy day. In October. We get a lot of rain in autumn here.” Babette recalls, her eyes locked on a spot on the wall, beyond Gideon; her mind far away, in another place, another time. “Josh had just purchased that farm, out of town. He wanted to take some distance from us… from me. He had met that little bitch and she had filled his mind with bizarre ideas about family and freedom…”  
Reid enters the interrogation room, handing some files to Gideon, urge on his face, “That’s what Garcia found on Josh Camden” he murmurs.  
Babette, who doesn’t seem to notice the exchange between the two profilers, goes on with her recount “Theodore went to see Josh and tried to talk to him. He was worried about me; he didn’t want him to leave us…” she whimpers.  
Gideon looks at her, then at the papers Reid just gave him, then at her again.  
There’s no trace of Josh or his fiancé for the past four years.  
At his side, Reid is mentally processing the information gathered so far.  
Babette, speaking of her older brother just in the past.  
Josh, not leaving any trace since the last time Theodore confronted him, four years ago. In Autumn… October 2003.  
The first skull dated October 2003.  
“Theodore just wanted to talk to him” she goes on sobbing, “the ground was slippery. They started arguing, Josh started saying awful things about me and… and Theodore just lost it. He gets mad sometimes, but he’s a good boy. It was slippery, because of the rain. It was an accident. My boy is a good kid!” she goes on repeating with pleading eyes, begging for understanding.  
The two profilers don’t have time for empathy though; they look at each other, frozen.  
There is no Josh. They’ve had the killer under their nose all along, and he played them. And now one of their own is sitting, alone, with a lunatic psychopath.

Reid immediately calls Morgan, while JJ’s trying to get a hold of Emily’s phone.

“It was in autumn, 2003. It was raining” he answers sketchy, growing more and more agitated and evading her gaze.  
“October?” it comes out in the form of a question, but she really doesn’t need an answer.  
The transformation she has just seen in Josh is too familiar to evade her noticing. It’s exactly the same she observed in Babette few hours ago. Josh said he wasn’t in touch with Theodore and was often away, but he was awfully quick to get to the motel. He said he has a farm, but the truck he drives isn’t muddy at all. He said he didn’t get along with his brother, but he overreacted every time she questioned his or Babette’s morality.  
“How did you cut yourself?” she asks, slowly taking a step behind and moving her hand to the holster.  
“A wild animal.” He answers after a pause, looking again at her, searchingly, “Why do you ask?” He takes a step closer, reclining his head on one side; malice and boldness are now lingering in his words.  
It’s then that she notices the crystal ashtray he’s bouncing in his hand, “Drop that ashtray, Theodore” she intimates, without a flinch.  
He smiles in excitement, “you’re so gonna lose that arrogant attitude once I’m done with you…” he gets closer, gripping firmly the ashtray.  
“Theodore, it’s over. There’s no way out” she warns him, gun in hand. Her phone starts ringing on the sofa where she was sitting.  
His smile widens, “You’re all alone in here” he chants mockingly, “They won’t find a trace of you by the time they arrive.”  
“I’m not one of those girls, Theodore. You had to take them aback and subdue them, because this is the only way a twisted coward as you can get hold of a woman,” she warns him calmly.  
“They were whores!” He growls, feeling the excitement of the hunt surging.  
“They were young women, lost and lone. You took advantage of their weakness and forced them to fulfill your need. Then ashamed of disappointing your mom, you got rid of them” she stares at him.  
The phone starts ringing again, and again it stops.  
“It’s twenty minutes by car from the police station to get here. Have you got any idea of what I can do to you in twenty minutes?” he grins.  
“Drop the ashtray and get down on your knees. I’m not going to say it again.”  
Then it all happens so fast. He smiles and closes the distance lifting his harmed hand.  
A series of deafening shots fills the room, until he falls lifeless, down at her feet.  
She sees Morgan’s silhouette on the door, his gun drawn and still smoking, as well as hers.  
“Perfect timing,” she tells him in a louder than needed tone, still deafened by the shots.  
“Are you okay?” he comes close, a hand on her shoulder.  
She nods, inhaling deeply and trying to keep the nausea at guard.

In seconds the rest of the team catches up with them.  
“I had it under my eyes all the time and I didn’t see it,” it’s the first thing she tells Gideon.  
“None of us did” he cuts it short, then he looks around. An entire town has lived with a serial killer for so many years, and none of them saw it.  
“They will search Josh’s farm and Babette’s house again.” JJ informs her “We think his first victim was his brother’s fiancé in..”  
“October 2003” Emily concludes her sentence, “Yeah, I know…”  
“The skulls we found are probably just some of his victims, a killer like this cannot stop for long periods” Morgan carries on.  
“Probably he just kept the ones that survived the acid..” Reid offers.  
“According to Garcia, 18 young women fitting the profile went missing in this area since 2003. Hopefully some families will find closure” JJ concludes.  
“You were right” Morgan addresses Emily and she frowns in response, “when you thought it was more than a single homicide. If it wasn’t for you we would have dismissed it.”  
“Yeah.. well. I really wish I wasn’t right this time,” she tiredly answers before heading back to the SUV.

Once on the plane, Gideon sits in front of Emily. He looks out of the window, then he turns to her, “Good job today, Prentiss.”  
She looks back at him, taken aback “Thank you, sir” she mumbles in surprise, trying to gather a more articulate answer to carry on the conversation.  
“Mh” he growls back, putting on his glass and opening a book.  
The conversation is over and he’s already focused on other thoughts. She looks at him perplexed and helpless, while Hotch chuckles at the scene, from his seat at the back of the jet.  
Emily smiles in surrender glancing at her dysfunctional family.  
She feels exhausted but relieved, knowing that even today they’re all going back home safe.  
She relaxes in her seat and closes her eyes, welcoming the belated sleep.  
Finally.


End file.
